Lovely regret
by Sanctuary Dreamer
Summary: It's quite lonesome when you are not loved no? Sometimes one must simply go and find love themselves. And I have found it, but in the worse possible way. A drink, an invitation, a mistake, and it all led to me finding him. And already, I've messed up so awfully...FrUk, alcohol consumption, Smut, Mpreg and dark themes.
1. Prologue

We met at the old pub. In early September, during the late 1800's I remember. I was having a bit of trouble with things at home, and came to that pub in order to forget of my troubles. Taxes were rising, and my work as a writer of newspaper articles wasn't paying as well as it used to. The newspaper that we were publishing wasn't as popular as it used to be, so we don't make as much money anymore. So I didn't know what I was going to do. I was sitting by myself at a table, drinking, and having a smoke. The sun had already set and the pub was nearly empty. I had drained mug after mug of the poison that helped me forget. I'm not sure how long I was there, but I was approached by what I had presumed to be a women.

"Bonjour mon Cher." She told me. She sat across from me. "What is a handsome man doing here all alone?" Her voice was accented with French. A French woman huh? I didn't answer her. What was I supposed to say. "I'm sorry, was that a bit too personal?" She began to play with a lock of her blonde, curly hair and leaned forward, and when she did, I got a better look at her. A smooth face, curly blonde locks, and...stubble? This wasn't a girl? This was a male! I grimaced and turned my head. Was this fellow coming onto me? Well I didn't play that way, no sir. But he didn't seem to get the hint. "Can I buy you a drink? You seem to be running on empty." He told me. And I did accept the offer. Not because I was warming up to him. It was because like he said, I was running out of drinks. The man bought me one, and talked to me as I slowly pushed myself farther and farther from reality.

"My name is Francis. Francis Bonnefoy. What is yours?" He asked me.

"Arthur.." I answered. "Arthur Kirkland." Slowly but surely, as he talked to me, I started to break out of my shell. I wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol, or this friendly mans way of speaking. Looking back on it however, it was probably both. I spent about an hour talking to the man. And he seemed to hang on my every word. Once the colors I saw began to blend together, I realized that I likely had just a tad bit too much to drink. He told me in his sickly sweet voice, "would you like to come home with me tonight? I couldn't let you try and find your way home like this."

I tried to tell him I would be fine, but I knew that I wouldn't be. I could barely take two steps foreword without falling over. Ah, it seemed as if I had gone overboard once again. He took my arm and placed it over my shoulder, holding me as still as he could before beginning to walk. We stepped out into the cold, fall air. It helped to cool down my flushed and warm face. I stumbled along the sidewalk, Fracis assisting me the whole time like some child. I'm not sure how far we went. But when we arrived at his house, I was truly in awe, despite how uncoordinated I was. It was truly a house to be envied. Large and beautiful. It must have been the biggest house in the area, and was certainly the largest I had ever been in. The inside of the house was just as stunning. Several different rooms to be seen.

"What..is your occupation?" I slurred out.

"Ah, I work as a doctor." He told me. "So as you can see, my pay is fairly well. What about you Chere? Where do you work?"

"Don't you pity me.." I told him. Didn't make much sense to say, but it did at the time. Francis chuckled but didn't sat anything more. He took to the the restroom to wash my face, and then to the bedroom. His bed was large and fit for a noble. When I look back on it however, his house likely wasn't as fancy as I made it out to be. He simply gussied it up in order to make it look a lot better to the unsuspecting eye. And well..it worked. He sat me on the bed and undid my jacket, revealing my white shirt. I watched him as he did so. My my. He really did look like a girl. And his hands were just a soft as a girls as well. He placed my jacket on the bed and pushed my bangs off of my somewhat sweaty forehead.

After that...I don't know what I was thinking.

His face came closer to mine in order to touch my hair, and I took it as a sign that he wanted me. I leaned up and kissed his soft lips. Francis seemed surprised, but he didn't refuse me. Instead, he sat next to me on the bed and put his arms around me, kissing me back. His fingers ran through my hair as he kissed me. He tasted slightly of wine and fancy chocolate. Rich bastard. My hands went to slip his jacket from his shoulders. But as soon as it was off, he stood up.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I should not be taking advantage of you like this." Hmph. "You should get some sleep. And if you still want this when you are sober, then I will be more then happy to supply." He said with a wink. That broke the last straw for me.

I stood and stumbled up to him, falling, resulting in him catching me in his arms. When he caught me, he backed up into the wall. "Chere.." He began, but I just held a finger to his lips.

"I don't want to wait.." I told him, my lust overtaking me. "Give it to me." I was being foolish. I know I was. But my drunken mind could only think of one thing. And that was getting what I wanted. I hadn't slept with a woman in such a long time. My personality seemed to draw people away, and in the end, I was usually alone. I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity before he could see how I really was. But he still didn't comply.

"Listen. You aren't thinking straight. Please, go back to bed." He told me, grabbing my upper arms. Angrily, I reached up and grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head. He gasped and tried to twist away, but I wasn't letting him. "L-let me go!" He demanded. "I will tell the police if you do anything you'll regret." He threatened. I used one hand to begin undoing his belt.

"Well looks like I'm safe. Because I'm not going to regret a thing.."

But I was wrong. I regretted it deeply. And even today I still do. The rest of that night was a blur. I can remember how I had fistfulls of his blonde locks. I can remember my tongue being in places I had never put it before. I can remember the feeling of his extremely soft pillows against my sweating forehead. And there was one other thing. Something that I didn't think about much at the time, but when I look back on it, it was probably quite important to have remembered. All I can say is that...it made it easier to visualize him as a girl since he had the right extra parts. But not much else. I can't remember it very much, not do I want to. I took advantage of a man's hospitality in the worst possible way.

The morning afterwards, I woke up with a splitting headache and a churning stomach. The stumbled from the bed and into his restroom that was connected to the bedroom, bringing up the contents of my stomach, mixed with foul bile and alcohol. I felt lke absolute rubbish. Once my stomach had settled, I stood up, and noticed my reflection in his large mirror. I was completely bare, my hair was a mess, my eyes bloodshot, and my whole body was sore. What in the world had happened last night? I glanced at the bedroom through the still open door. On the bed, lie someone else. Who was he? In my head, I tried to remember but seemed to be coming on a blank. I approached the bed and walked to the other side to see his face. Upon seeing it, I finally recognized him. Oh my. This was the man from the pub the other night.

He opened his eyes when he came closer, and upon seeing me, he panicked. He pulled his blanket closer to his nude body and moved away from me, nearly falling from the bed. Big blue eyes filled with frightened tears. What was wrong with him? I thought for a moment. Did we make love? And he regretted it? That had to be it. Who wouldn't regret making love with someone like me...? But then why did he seem so..afraid? He stood from the bed on shaky legs and pointed to the door.

"Out of my house." He demanded. " _Now!"_ He was angry for sure, as he held the blanket close to himself so that I couldn't see his body. He kneeled down, grabbed my clothing, and threw them at me. "I don't want to see you again! I never should have helped you! I never should have kissed you! You animal! I hate you!" Following that, was a string of swearing words and insults in French. I didn't respond. Instead I just clumsily put on my clothing, looking like a hot mess. I was still quite confused and a bit downtrodden. I left his house, with him still screaming at me. And at the time, all I could think w as that he just hated me more then I could even realize. That wasn't nice..

At my own home, which was much smaller then Francis's, I got some time to sober up quite a bit. And as I rested, I began to remember the events that took place that night. Oh dear. He wasn't upset because of him making love to me. He was upset because I forced myself on him. I tried to remember everything that had happened, but had trouble remembering it all. One detail kept jumping out at me. His...family jewels were there, that's for sure. However he had something else as well. A...feminine part. How in the world was that possible? Well whatever the reason, I felt extremely guilty. What was I supposed to do?

Two days had passed since the incident, and I decided to visit him. It took a bit of searching, but eventually I found his home. And of course he let me have it. He was NOT pleased with me, and he meant it when he said he never wanted to see me again. I tried to get him to forgive me. I even have him the number to my telephone and directions to my home, in case he wanted to talk there sometime. But he ripped both pieces of parchment in half right in front of my face. And he demanded that I left the premise immediately. I refused at first, but when he threatened to tell the police, I had no choice but to do as he said. I went home, my conscious weighing heavy on my shoulders. Great. Not only was I a loner and an unwed depressed man, but now I was also a criminal.

I didn't think I would see him again. I didn't think he would ever see me again.

So you can imagine the surprise on my face when two months later, in the middle of November, when he suddenly came knocking at my door...


	2. Chapter 2

**I quickly wanted to say, Arthur is a bit of a dick in the end of this chapter but he won't stay that way I promise! Please enjoy.**

It was around the middle of November. Two months after the...indecent. I had managed to all but forget what had happened. There was no point in remembering anyhow. It was only a one time thing, that was all. Nothing more. _Knock knock._ I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts by a rapping at my door. Who could that be? I didn't exactly get many visitors nowadays, so having anyone over was quite rare. I opened up the door for the visitor. Anyone would have probably surprised me, (aside from the postman anyhow) but the person standing at the door surprised me greater then if anyone else had been here. Why, it was that man! The one I met at the pub. His name failed to come to me however...

He was standing at my door, wearing his sweater and dark scarf, seeing how it was fall. He was fidgeting a bit and continuously looking over his shoulder, as though making sure that he hadn't been followed. I glanced about. He wasn't accompanied by a carriage or anything of the sort. Did he walk here? I might not remember much, but I do remember that the distance between out houses wasn't exactly a hop, skip, and a jump apart. When he noticed that I was there, he seemed a bit relived.

"Arthur, thank goodness your home." He said, his hand on his chest as though to calm his beating heart. "May I come in?" He asked. I opened my door just a tad more so that I could see him better.

"Why? I thought you didn't want to see me anymore. Why the sudden change of heart?" I inquired. Why, only two months ago, he was screaming insults at me and telling me to leave. But now he looked so...so timid.

"Please Arthur. I need to talk to you. It's about..what happened that night."

I sighed. "I'm sorry. Did you want to be compensated? I don't have much to give you know? So I'm afraid-" he stopped me there.

"No no. I don't want your money Arthur." He told him. "I don't want anything from you."

"Did you come for an apology then?" I asked now. I reached out and took his hand, shaking it. "Well I can assure you, I'm extremely sorry for what occurred that night, and it will not happen again." I let go, and he let he arm fall back to his side. "There, is everything alright now? I apologize for making such haste, but I'm afraid that I am quite occupied today. So if you'll excuse me.." I knew that I was being rude, and I felt terribly guilty about it, however what I said was true. I had some chores to get done and an article to plan, posthaste, or my boss would have my head. I tried to close the door but the man stopped it with his foot.

"Arthur please. I must speak with you about something." He frowned. "And even if I did come for an apology, do you really think that alone would compensate for what you did?"

I hesitated. What in the world could he want? Was he going to tell me that he would tell the police? But then why so late after the incident itself? After a moment, I finally relented and opened the door the rest of the way to let him in. He left his scarf and coat on my coat rack before I led him into my kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. I hadn't seen his kitchen, but I imagine it was bigger then mine. Mine was a simple kitchen with the bare necessities, such as the oven, a small stove, two cabinets, and two drawers. Sure it wasn't fancy, but I found it to be quite cozy...and besides, I least I didn't still use a cauldron to cook unlike some people I knew. I had him sit at the table and began to brew some tea. He didn't say anything as I did. I suppose he was waiting for me to sit down. I decided not to say anything either. I stood at the stove as the tea brewed. The soft scent of it helped me calm down a bit. What in the world could this man be here to tell me? He didn't want compensation or an apology. Perhaps he had called the police and wanted to tell me about it. But why would he do that? Maybe he wanted to forgive me and get to know me better or something? Well that was just silly. Why would he trust me now?

The kettle began to whistle and i poured tea into two cups. I came back to the seated man and give him his cup. " _Merci."_ he said softly. I sat across from him and watched him for a moment. He brought the cup to his lips and paused. He seemed to grimace before setting the cup back down. Did it smell foul? I sniffed at my own tea. Smelt fine to me. Perhaps he wasn't accustomed to the tea that I brewed. But it wasn't exactly a rare type of tea. I purchased it from the local shop. Either way, I couldn't help but find it a bit rude that he was turning up his nose at the refreshments he was being given.

"So Arthur. As I said before, I need to talk to you about what happened that night." He said as he traced his finger along the rim of the cup.

"But of course." I responded. "I'm terribly sorry but..your name escapes me. What was your name again fellow?"

"Francis. My name is Francis." He responded and I made a mental note to remember that.

"Alright then. So then what did you want to tell me?" Francis sat up straighter and looked me in the eye.

"You see Arthur, after what happened, I didn't plan to call the police or look for you or anything. I wanted to move on with my life and not have to think about you ever again. But last month in October...I started getting sick." I raised an eyebrow but let him continue. "I could hardly eat a thing without becoming ill, and was always so tired. I was afraid that I was becoming ill so I saw my private doctor." I frowned. Of course the git had a private doctor. "The doctor examined me and gave me some news that I'm fairly sure..no I'm positively sure that you need to hear." Oh dear. I hadn't given him some sort of illness had I? Of course not! I was not diseased! There was no way in hell I could have given him anything! He hesitated before sighing.

"Arthur I'm pregnant. And it is your child."

I practically choked on the mouthful of tea I had, What in the hell?! He came around the table to pat my back but I swatted him away. "What the hell do you mean pregnant?!" I demanded as I got to my feet. "Do you take me for a fool! You are a man! And men cannot get pregnant you idiot!" Something about the way he said it however, made him seem as though he was being serious. But of course he couldn't be! That was utterly impossible!

"I didn't think you would believe me. My doctor wasn't entirely sure if it was true either. but there is no denying it Arthur." He placed his hand on his stomach and sighed. "I was not born like most men Arthur. I don't know if you remember but that night when you and I...made love, you could see what I looked like...down there. I have both male and female reproductive organs. And my female organs are fully functioning. So it is entirely possible for me to have a baby."

I froze up and just stared at him. "So..you really are having a baby?" He nodded. I slowly sank down into my chair, running my fingers through my hair. Oh my goodness. I was going to be a father.

"I came to tell you because I am going to need your help greatly." He continued and he came a bit closer. "If word breaks out about a pregnant male in London, I will be in a lot of trouble. The doctor who found out was...disgusted to say the least. After we were finished, he told me he didn't want to see me anymore. That it would be bad for buissness." He frowned. "I will be able to hide the pregnancy for awhile, but once it becomes obvious, I don't know what will happen. I may be fired! So I'll need your help to support the baby Arthur. Will you help me?"

I thought it over for a moment. If this man was fired, then he would eventually loose his home wouldn't he? Then what? But I had to think of myself as well. If the public knew that I was the father of this baby, then no doubt I would be the victim of a lot of pointed fingers and eventually I would be fired as well. I couldn't let that happen. I needed to get through life and I was already struggling. I couldn't have this pulling me down as well. I stood and crossed the room. I got my billfold from the counter and reached in. I didn't have much, but I knew whatever I could give would help. I pulled out a few folded bills and handed them to him.

"I don't understand. Why are you giving me this?" He asked.

"I'm afraid I can't help you. But I can give you this. I hope it will help some." His eyes widened for a moment before his brows furrowed.

"What do you mean you will not help me?!" He demanded. "This is your child, and you need to take responsibility for it!" He was obviously very upset with me, and understandably so. But he needed to hear my side.

"Look, I don't know if you could tell, but I'm not as well off as you. I have no savings available. If I'm fired for having a bastard child then I would be on the streets in an instant. You have more money then I and would be well off for a good while you know? So I'm afraid your on your own. Here, take this." I encouraged, pushing the money towards him. His face became red and he slapped my hand, knocking the money from my hand.

"I do not want your money!" He cried. "How could be so selfish? I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Help me!" He demanded angrily. I frowned and stepped foreward.

"Get it through your head! I'm not going to help you! I don't even want this baby!"

"Oh and you think that I do? The hospital I work at runs the abortion clinic. Even if I did rid myself of this child, I would still be in a lot of trouble! And I do have savings, but it's not nearly enough to support myself and a child!"

"Oh you mean AFTER your luxury purchases, you don't have enough for a baby? I wonder why!" I knew I was being irrational. But I simply couldn't stand people like him. Those who were in the lap of luxury and didn't know what it meant to struggle. And he had the gall to try and get me to be at risk as well. I know I made a mistake, but he already pushed me away. And I didn't want to have anything to do with him either. "If you don't want the money, then fine, don't take it! But stop yelling at me!" I pinched the bridge of my nose to calm down before looking at him. "I beileve its time for you to leave now."

Francis folded his arms and glared. "I'm not leaving until you have a solution. What do you propose that I do now?" He hissed. I didn't respond. Instead, I went to the door and opened it for him. He scoffed and stormed from the house, grabbing his scarf and coat from the coat rack, nearly knocking it over in his fury. Once he was out, he turned to glare at me. And I couldn't help but feel a tad guilty when I saw the angry tears pooling in his eyes.

"I'll leave." He said angrily. "But I hope you remember this. I hope your proud of yourself." He said with a huff before turning and storming away. I closed the door behind me and pressed my back against it, letting myself slide down. This was just perfect. A guilty conscious weighing down on me and eating at me. I put my face in my hands and groaned. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to him.

And frankly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Quick note, I did make sure to look up dates so that I could be as accurate as possible. Things like when the camera, letter opener, and cigarettes were invented. Also there is a mention of suicide around the end of this chapter so be warned.**

For the next few months, I didn't encounter Francis. He didn't look for me, nor did I look for him. By chance, we never really confronted each other accidentally on the streets of quaint little London. I'm not sure if it was due to coincidence, or that he had simply moved to another location. Whatever the reason, I didn't really mind. So long as we were out it each other's hair. But still, I often found myself wondering what would become of Francis and his baby. However I didn't intend to go out of my way to find out. But fate seemed to have other plans.

One afternoon, in the month of February, I was at the old work place. It wasn't exactly a fancy set up. A few lines of tables with typewriters where me and a few others would be feverishly writing articles about everything and anything that we had discovered. The air was constantly fouled up with cigarette smoke. And I was honestly just as guilty for the air pollution. Me and the other workers sat for hours on end, writing and smoking away. But what we all wanted, was a task. The boss would occasionally send one of us to go out and investigate a certain story that he had caught wind of. It was no wonder our newspaper wasn't selling well! A lot of what was written was absolute rubbish unless the boss sent you out to investigate it! And even then, he tended to over exaggerate. The work here is quite meaningless and I found myself loosing quite a bit of motivation.

As I said, I had been putting away my things. My ink, paper, unfinished articles, etc etc. Suddenly I heard my boss call my name. And my heart began to swell. Was he giving me a job? Well it was about bloody time! I hurried up to my boss, who was looking over last weeks paper. Once he saw me there, he set the paper down. His face was practically glowing as he puffed away at the big cigar past his lips. "Kirkland!" He bellowed, standing up and coming around to the table to slap me on the back. His larger figure nearly knocked mine over. "It's your time to shine Kirkland. I've got some investigation work for you to do. And if it all goes well, we'll be back on our feet within the month!" He said happily. It wasn't like I hadn't heard that before. But I just went with it. Perhaps if the news wasn't as great as he had made it seem, then I could spice it up a bit myself to at least make it seem a bit more exciting.

"Alright, so if the rumors are true, then there's a man who lives in the slums of London, in a house by himself. Kind of a handsome guy I've heard, but he tends to put on airs." He told me. I nodded silently. Ah. He was likely just telling me a funny story that he wanted printed. Not really sure what I could do with that. "But anyways, apparently this man...is pregnant!" I could feel my face grow extremely pale.

"S-surely you're joking." I said shakily. "There isn't any way for a male to become impregnated. It's physically impossible." But my heart was sinking low into my stomach. Was he talking about..Francis? He couldn't be. Surely fate could not be so cruel as to force me to face him. But apparently I was wrong. My boss grinned at me and pulled out some folded up photographs.

"That's what I thought too! But take a look at these! Some readers sent in a few pictures that they took of the guy to put in the paper. Check it out!" And he proceeded to present me with the black and white photographs. They were all rather blurred, but I was able to make out the figure of a man. A bit tall and with curly hair. In each picture, he seemed to be wearing a large coat of some sort, and was trying to avoid the camera. But in the two of the five photographs, I could make out something that made my stomach drop. His abdomen was rounded in a way that was not normal. In one of the pictures, he had both arms wrapped protectively around it, as though trying to shield it from view. While the photos were awfully blurred, there was no mistaking it.

This was Francis Bonnefoy.

"Your job Kirkland, is to get an interview with this guy. Try and get him to tell you as much as he can. And get some more pictures while your at it alright?" He instructed me. "This is a big story! We can't afford to mess it up!" He began to push away at his cigar, so I took the opportunity to speak.

"This is quite a big honor Sir. Don't you think that someone else would be a bit more qualified for the job?" I asked him. My boss looked at me a bit funny. It was quite rare for one of us to turn down a job.

"You don't want the job?" He asked me. "Well why not?" I wasn't really sure what to tell him. I couldn't tell him that I knew this man. I couldn't tell him that his child was mine. Who knows what would happen? I knew that I didn't have the choice.

"Never mind." I told him. "I'll take it."

And that was how I found myself wandering through the slums of London. The snow crunched beneath my boots, my bag containing my camera and my stand slung over my shoulder, and a notepad and pencil in my coat pocket. I had to go searching for the man who wanted nothing more to do with me AND get an interview with him! How was that going to be possible? I grimaced as I stepped over a woman, sleeping on the sidewalk. I hated to come here, and usually tried to avoid it whenever I could. But here I had no choice. But still, it was absolutely abysmal here. It was thankfully rather small however. The slums consisted of three separate districts, each one lined with small wooden houses on each side. Some had a chimney on them. Some were cold. Most of them looked the same, but with little personal items to differentiate them. I saw about two houses that had clothing on a line to dry, despite it still being winter. Some of them had cracked windows. And there were a few people sleeping in the snow in between the houses. How horrendous.

I couldn't help but wonder, how in the world did Francis end up here? Surely he couldn't have already lost his money. And even if he did, how did he get here so fast? It had only been about three months since I had last seen him. I shivered a bit from the cold and paused to blow into my hands. And when I did, I could feel someone bump into me from behind, effectively knocking me over and making me drop my bag into the snow. I could hear a few muttered words, none of which consisted of an apology.

I growled and turned to look at the rude stranger. "Hey you! Why don't you watch where your...going." I said, my words slowly trailing off, as I stared at the man who had fallen onto his back. He was struggling to get back onto his feet, due to a rather large object that was restricting him. His own stomach. I had found him.

Just like in the pictures, Francis was wearing a rather large and dark coat to hide it as much as possible. But it wasn't doing much for him. After picking up my bag, I got to my feet and watched for a moment as Francis pulled himself into a seated position and then placed his hands on the ground to try and push himself up. But I sighed and held out my hand. "Take my hand." I said. "Don't want you straining your back." He scoffed and shooed my hand away. And with a grunt of effort, he slowly pushed himself to his feet. He glanced around and sighed heavily. He apparently had gone out shopping recently, and his paper bag filled with items was scattered all in the snow. Parchment, a letter opener, a bit of ink, and a bottle of some cheap wine. And I could see his hat was partially buried in the snow now as well. He looked up to glare at me, but his face fell a bit when he saw who it was.

"You?!" He demanded. "What are you doing here?" He noticed my bag and his eyebrows went up. Both arms went around his stomach and he backed away from me a bit. "No. Absolutely not. I know exactly what you are here for but the answer is no!" He told me sternly. "So many of the newspaper writers have come asking for a picture of an interview but I want absolutely nothing to do with the press." Now this was going to be a problem. I knew it wasn't right, but I simply had to get this interview. My job was depending on it. Whilst he backed away, I was able to get a better look at Francis. He seemed a bit wan. His face was pale and a tad sunken in. I could see faint bags under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept properly in a good amount of time.

"Francis are you alright? You seem ill." I tried to come closer to get a better look at him, but he backed away again.

"Don't you act like you care now! Not everything that you have put me through!"

"But Francis please.." I could feel guilt begin to rise in my throat.

"Don't you start with that!' He came closer to me and jabbed my chest, and I could feel his cold breath against my face. "I have lost my job because of you! The doctor who found out told all of the other doctors, and it eventually reached the ears of my boss! I was fired a mere week after I spoke with you! And because of that, I've lost my house as well! I've had to use my savings to buy a small house here! Because no one will spare a moment to let me purchase a home that is any better. Do you see what you have done to me Arthur? You have ruined my life! _Vous terrible homme!"_ He held his bag close to his chest as he continued to yell at me. "I am not having any interviews. Not now, not ever. And I am going to make sure of it." His face twisted, into one of despair and I could see that he almost ready to burst into tears. "I won't let anyone bother me again, and I'm going to make sure that you never cross my path ever again. Good bye." And with that, he brushed past me and hurried away. I didn't bother to try and follow him. How could I? I had done enough. But how was he going to do everything he had said? Was he finding a new home? Was he going to leave London? Well if that was so, then that meant that I wouldn't have to worry about him any longer. Perhaps he could live a better life in Paris.

I sighed and slung my bag back over my shoulder and began to walk away. But I paused. Something had caught my eye. I reached into the snow and picked it up. Why, it was Francis's hat! He had forgotten it in his haste. I looked it over as quickly as I could and felt my heart sink. There was no location to return it to located on the hat. How was I expected to return it to him? I looked around. Maybe I could ask somebody around here.

With a bit of hesitancy, I approached a young women who sat quietly in the snow, leaning against a home and blowing into her hands. "Pardon me miss." I said, getting her attention. "I hate to disturb you, but do you know where I might find the erm...pregnant male who lives here?" She didn't say anything at first, and I was worried that she might not understand. But she sat up and looked me in the eye.

"Do you mean Francis?" She asked me.

"Yes! Do you know him?" She sighed a bit when I asked.

"I do. And I know what your here for as well." She told me. "There have been so many people like you around here looking for him. Why won't you simply leave him be?" She asked. When i didn't answer, she sighed. "He doesn't live in the district. He lives on the one over there." She stated, pointing in one direction. "But he likely won't see you, no matter what you say." She sighed again, and went back to lying down. I thanked her and went in the direction that she pointed me in. As I walked, I glanced up at the sky. It was beginning to grow a bit dim. And in turn, it was becoming colder then it was before. I had to hurry. The trip took a few minutes, but i made it to the next district. Now it was a matter of finding his house.

I stared at the different houses that I passed, all of which were beginning to look the same due to the darker night sky. The snow had begun to fall once again, making it a tad harder. I was starting to lose hope. How was I to know just which house was his own? But suddenly, I came across one certain home. I had been looking at each house carefully in order to find any certain details that might point out his home to me. I had once again, given this home a look over, when something caught my eye. Something was lying on the doorstep, and was nearly buried in snow. I walked across the front and went to the doorstep. Upon sifting through the snow, I discovered that it was a letter. In loopy handwriting, it said, _To whom it may concern._

To whom it may concern? Did that mean that it was for anybody who stumbled across it? I was thinking about setting it back down, but i knew that if i did, then it would surly be buried. And besides, what if it was from Francis? There was only one way to find out. I carefully managed to open the envelope and pull out the parchment that was inside. The letter was written in hastily scrawled cursive, as if the writer had been in a rush.

 _To whom it may concern  
If you have come across this letter, then I want you to know that I have had enough. I am tired of the hatred, I am tired of the negative attention, and I am tired of being alone. For the past few months I have been shunned by society as though I were a monster. I am carrying a child that is not even wanted by it's own father. And everywhere I go, I am called names and hurt. It is too much. I cannot live like this anymore. And so, it is with a heavy heart, that I say goodbye. I am departing for a much better place, and I can only hope that God forgives me for the sins that I have committed, as well as the sin that I have committed on this night.  
Francis Bonnefoy_

As I came to the bottom of the page, my eyes widened. The letter slipped from my shaky fingers and I could feel my heart pounding. Was this a..a suicide note? Had I truly driven this man to suicide? I banged on the door, but received no answer. Was I too late? So I began to ram at the door with my shoulder. I didn't care just how miserable this bloke's life was. I simply couldn't let him do this! After a few harsh slams against the door, the lock broke and the door swung open, leaving me on the ground. I jumped to my feet, and my eyes widened at the sight before me.

There was Francis, on his knees next to his bed. His stomach was nearly covering his knees when he was in this position. He had taken off his large coat, and had dressed in his pajamas, a long and slightly dirty nightgown. The bottle of wine I had seen him with was lying on its side on the floor, nearly all of its contents drained, yet some had spilled onto the floor. In Francis's hands, was the letter opener from before. One of his wrists had been slit open, and blood was trickling to the floor, mixing with the wine. And by the looks of it, he was preparing to slice open the other one. Tears were staining his pale cheeks and when he saw me, they seemed to flow even faster. His lips moved slowly, but no words left. But I could see what he was mouthing out. 'Stay away."

Francis was attempting to kill himself. All because of me.


	4. Chapter 4

The two of us were completely still and silent for a while, our eyes never leaving each other. I didn't know what I was supposed to say to him, and by the looks of it, he was just as stumped as I was. Finally, my body seemed to move on its own, and I rushed forward. I grabbed one of his wrists with one hand, and the blade with the other. He cried out and tried to fight me, but it was proving to be rather difficult for him, what with his already somewhat weakened state. But he still managed to make it much more difficult for me anyhow. The hand that wasn't holding the letter opener was up against my face, trying to push me away and he had put his legs in front of himself and started kicking, reminding me greatly of a child who was throwing a fit. " _Arrêtez_!" He screamed at me, managing to slap me across my face. But despite his struggles, I managed to pull the letter opener from his hand. He lurched forward to get it back, but I stood up, leaving him breathless and on his hands and knees. I could see that the bleeding wrist was trembling and struggling to hold up his heavier frame. One of his knees was in the small puddle of wine and staining his already dingy looking nightgown. He was in a truly pathetic state.

"Are you a bloody fool?" I demanded angrily. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" He looked up at me angrily and got to his feet, stumbling just a tad.

"What does it look like I am doing?" Francis shouted back, reaching for what I had taken from him. "Did you not see the note I have left?"

"Well, of course, I saw it! But just because I saw your intentions, doesn't mean I intend to let you go through with them!" I scolded. But he still struggled to take the blade from me. He was seriously intent on ending his life! "Forgive me," I said, before placing my hand on his chest and pushing him roughly. It was enough to have him stumbling back and falling onto the bed on his back. He gasped softly and struggled to get up. I stuck the letter opener into my pocket and approached him. I hated to say it, but he truly was a pathetic sight. His sleeves had fallen down to cover his skinny arms, and one sleeve was stained with blood. His nightgown was white and old, and a bit dingy. The knee of his gown was red from the wine and I knew it was a stain that would not come out easy. He truly looked pitiful.

I took his uninjured wrist and pulled him into a seated position. He had stopped fighting me, and seemed rather fatigued. He sighed heavily and looked up at me. "Why are you here?" He asked. "I told you to leave me alone. Why did you come here?" He asked.

"Well I.." I scanned the ground for a moment before picking up his hat from the floor. I had dropped it after I had broken the lock on the door. "I originally came to give you back your hat, as you had dropped it. But I'm glad that I came when I did. Look at yourself!" I scolded as I held out the hat to him. He snatched it away angrily.

"Well I do not know what you expected to see when you came. Look, just stop it okay? There is nothing for you here." Francis told me. I didn't know what to say. He looked..tired. Like he had given up on himself, just as the world had given up on him.

"Francis please don't say that. I can't just leave you like this. Your a mess." I thought about it for a moment. "Hold on. Don't move from there okay?" I found the restroom which was situated near the small dining area. Underneath the sink, I found a roll of gaze. I used the letter opener to cut a few strips from the roll before returning to the room. Francis's head was facing his lap, and his facile expression was a mix of distressed, and angered. He seemed to be rather conflicted.

I sat next to him on the bed and took his arm. He didn't protest. I rolled up his sleeve to look at the wound. Oh dear. He had cut his wrist rather deep, and blood was still gushing from it. It looked rather painful. I rolled his sleeve up as far as it would go, before wrapping the bandages around the wound. We were both rather quiet. Suddenly, I felt pressure on my shoulder. Francis had leaned forward and had his head rested on my shoulder. But I didn't say anything. He was tired. Poor thing..

"Why are you doing this?" He asked me. "I thought you did not care about me."

"I never said that." Oh wait a moment. I did say something like that didn't I? I told him that I didn't want the child and that I wasn't going to help him. Oh dear. It truly was my fault that he had ended up in this mess. What was I supposed to do now? I know I screwed up. I know I did something awful. But what was I to do in order to get him out of this mess? "I'm sorry."

"It is a little too late for that now." He said back. "I do not understand why you are trying to help me. I have no job, no home, no friends. Why won't you just let me die?" His voice had been hushed to merely a whisper, and I could feel something warm on my neck. He was crying. But no sound was escaping his lips that indicated this.

"I won't let you because you don't deserve death." I told him. "I know life had put you down a tough and dirty road, but perhaps things will improve in the future. You just need a little time."

"A little time?" He scoffed as he snatched his arm away from me. The bandages were wrapped firmly around his wrist and secured in place, so thankfully they did not fall off when he pulled away his arm. "It has been five months. That is more then a little time. What is the point anymore?" He said.

"Because you have a wonderful child on the way. One who will love you with all its heart and one I am sure you will love back twice as much." I reminded him. He didn't seem convinced. "Listen, I know your frightened and you probably don't ever want this child. But believe me when I say that your life is worth living. You are going to make it through this, even if I have to hold you up the whole time." I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to ignore the stay hair that were coming off in my fingers. "I will stay. I'm sorry for not doing so sooner. But i will stay with you and watch over you to make sure no harm comes your way. Okay Francis?" He didn't answer me. "Francis?"

I moved a bit so I could look at him, but his body followed mine. Ah, had he fainted right there on my shoulder? Oh well. At least he was resting. I held still for a bit, so as to not disturb him. But I knew that he would awaken with a horrid pain in his neck if I allowed him to sleep in such a way. I had to move him. I placed one hand on the back of husband head, and the others on his upper back. Then I carefully took his head from my shoulder and had him lie down. But I did not cover him up right away. Instead, I looked him over. I couldn't leave him in that dirty nightgown. Let's see. Did he happen to own another? Surely he did, he couldn't be THAT poor right? There was a small dresser up against the wall, so I went there and opened the drawers. Hmm. Trousers, shirts, undergarments. Ah! There it was! I pulled out the long nightshirt and looked it over. Yes, this one defiantly looked better then the one he had on.

I went back to the bed, and slipped the dirty clothing from him as carefully and as slowly as I could. I paused, and I looked at his belly. My my. To think that a child rested in there. MY child no less. It was nothing short of a miracle really. I curled him fingers a bit, trying to restrain myself. But I just wanted to...to touch it. Just for a moment. He wouldn't mind it would he? I reached out, and I rested my hand on his stomach. My, I hadn't expected this really. The skin was stretched tight, and I knew it would only become tighter as the baby grew bigger. It was so smooth and a bit soft. It would have been even smoother, had it not been for the hair around the man's navel. That's what brought me back to reality. Despite how amazing this was, he was still a male. And males weren't supposed to bare children. Oh dear. I just hoped everything would be okay when the time came to deliver this baby.

I shook my head and carefully pulled the pajamas over his head. Once he was clothed once more, I took a moment to look around. The home he lived in was rather small. The room I had first entered when I can enter in seemed to be the main room. A bed in the middle, the cookery against the wall, and I small table near there. There were two separate rooms. The washroom, and the closet. When I peered into the closet, I saw a few articles of clothing, including his large coat. I grimanced a bit. Oh dear. He probably had to sell some of his cloathing in order to make money for food. That wasn't good at all.

I took a few moments to clean up the mess that had been left behind. I cleaned off the letter opener, but I didn't leave it on the counter. No, I placed it back into my pocket so that he could not get to it. Then I cleaned off the wine and the blood from the floor with a small cloth I found in the restroom. Once that was finished, I took the cloth and the gown, and I left them in the restroom. I would wash them both later. I had seen a small wash basin in the closet, so I would use that to clean them off in the morning.

I took the chair from the table and brought it closer to his bed so I could watch over him as he slept. As I watched, a small smile found its way to my lips. Heh. No wonder I fancied him so much before. He was rather attractive. His hair was blonde and longer then most male's hair. His face was soft and delicate. And those eyes, even when brimming with tears, were rather special. He had a certain air to him that just made me want to...made me want to...well I didn't know for certain what I wanted to do. But I knew one thing was for sure. I didn't want to leave his side. I found my heart twisting a bit as I looked at him. What have I done? I violated this man, and thought not of the consequences. And now here he was, jobless, hated, and alone. I hadn't to do something.

Suddenly, a new and alarming though came to mind. The article! My boss expected notes on his desk tomorrow morning! What was I going to tell him? Of course I wasn't going to start demanding an interview from Francis. How could I? But I had to tell him something. Perhaps...perhaps I would tell him that I couldn't find him. Yes, perhaps that would work.

I sat silently in the chair, watching over him. And before long, I had fallen asleep as well, slumped over on that chair.

When the sun began to rise in the sky, I stirred and awoke. It took me a moment to comprehend where I was, but after a bit of time, I became well aware. Francis was still asleep it seemed, and was now facing away from me. What was going to be my next move? Perhaps, if time would allow, I could hurry back to the work place and inform my boss that I couldn't find him. Then I would hurry back to be with Francis. No. Before that, perhaps I should purchase some food for him. I didn't know what he had, but it probably wasn't enough. Yes, that's what I would do.

I left the home after making sure Francis was truly asleep. And I dashed through the slums, ignoring the people who were currently exiting their homes and the children running amok on the streets. I had to be quick about this, as I didn't want to leave him for longer then I had to.

Just as I had expected, my boss was rather displeased with me once I returned. He demanded to know why I didn't look hard enough and why I didn't find him. All I could say to him was that Francis was likely hiding because he didn't want to be seen. Thankfully he let me off, but told me that he was sending someone else to look for him instead since I was so 'incompetent.' I didn't let his words get to me, but they defiantly did hurt my pride just a tad. Anyhow, I would have to warn Francis to stay low for awhile until the story blew over.

Afterwards, I hurried to the market and purchased fruits, vegetables, meats and cheeses for the skinny bloke. With two paper bags weighting down my arms, I hurried back to the slums. As I went down the alleyway, I paused. Oh my. There was that girl again. The one who pointed me to Francis's house. "Hello." She said to me. "I never saw you leave last night. Did you stay?"

"I did. I told Francis I was going to take care of him." I assured her. "I'm not going to let him suffer any longer." I promised her. I paused for a moment, before setting the bags down and reaching into one of them. I pulled out a small block of cheese and held it out to her. "Here, this is for you." I said to her. She seemed rather surprised, but she took it from me gratefully.

"Bless you sir." She said. "You are very kind."

"I'm not kind. Not at all." I sighed as I shook my head. How could I call myself kind after doing such a rotten thing to a man. As I stood, she quickly sat up, her big, green eyes wide with hope.

"Um, my name is Lili." She told me. "Perhaps we shall meet each other again?"

"Heh. Yes perhaps." I said back. I gave her a tip of my hat before picking up the bags and carrying them once again. I made it through the slums and managed to find my way back to his home. I went to the door and pushed it open. And I was more then surprised by what I saw when I had entered.

Francis was there, pacing about the room, his fingers tangled in his hair and looking like he was on the verge of pulling out that hair. His cheeks were stained with tears and his face was paler then ever. "Francis?" I said, awfully worried that something had happened whilst I was away. When he saw me, he froze.

"Arthur?" He said in disbelief. He came over to me. "There you are. I thought you had left." He said softly.

"Well I..I did. But only for a moment. I went to bring you some food." I said as he held up the bags. "Did I frighten you?"

"I...you.." he seemed to be at a loss for words. He rubbed at his eyes, but the tears didn't stop coming. "I thought you had left again. You said you would stay last night. So I was afraid that you had lied to me." He admitted. "Were you lying to me? You weren't were you?"

"Of course I didn't lie to you!" I assured him. "A gentleman never breaks his promises, no matter what. I won't leave you like this." I came close and set the bags on the ground. Then I took his hands. "I am sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you like this and taking everything away from you. But starting today, I promise I am going to make it up to you. I swear on my life that I won't let anything happen to you while I'm here." I said to him. "So I just need you to trust me. I imagine that might be a little hard for you right now, but please, will you trust me?"

He didn't answer right away. "No." He finally answered. "I cannot trust you Arthur. I can hope and I can pray that you will do as you said, but I cannot complelty trust that you shall hold your word."

"I can understand that. But that just means I'll have to work hard to make you trust me. Will you let me do that?" Again, he hesitated. But eventually, he nodded. "Thank you Francis. I won't let you down. Not again I won't." I said to him as I smiled a bit. "Now, why don't we get something in you hm?"


	5. Chapter 5

I had never seen a man eat as much as Francis did that morning. After I had come home with the food, at first he had rejected it. But I saw the way his fingers shook, almost as though he were about to snatch it away from me. So I brought the bag to the table and spread everything out. I told him to help himself, as everything there was for him. And he did. I decided not to say anything as I watched him eat the bread and fruit. He had defiantly seemed rather hungry. Well, at least the morning sickness he had spoken of when he first told me had passed, so now he could eat properly again.

I allowed him to take the edge off of his hunger first. But then I spoke up. "Francis," I said, getting his attention. "I think we should talk. I had some questions for you. Are you willing to talk?" He hesitated, so I quickly continued. "None of these will be in any story, I promise! I never took your picture, and I'm not putting you in any paper. Everything will be kept between us. Will you talk to me? I just want to know what happened."

Francis didn't say anything at first. He seemed to be thinking. But finally, he sighed and sat back in his chair. "Alright," he said to me. "As long as you keep your promise, I will talk to you." he brushed his hands off, before folding them on the table. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, I suppose I just want to know how all this-" I motioned around the room, "-all happened. Weren't you a surgeon of some sort before this happened? How did you go from riches to rags in only a few months time?" He stroked his chin as he debated how to answer me. Perhaps he wasn't sure what to say?

"After what had happened between us, I was never planning on thinking about it again. I wanted to push everything from my mind, and act like it never happened. That night was a mistake. But I felt that it was partially my fault as well for letting a stranger into my house. So I ended up not telling the police or calling you out." Well I was certainly grateful for that. If he had done such a thing, I would be imprisoned for sure. "But I think it was about a month afterwards that I started to get sick, as I told you before. So, I saw a doctor at the clinic that I was working at. The doctor examined me and ran a few tests. He found not much to be wrong with me at the time. So I left it alone and tried to treat it like a stomach bug. But when it did not go away, I returned and tried again." This was where Francis sighed and seemed a little distressed. "What he said next, it had only been a joke at the time. But in my case, it was all too real."

 _Francis silently waited for the doctor as he looked over his charts with the results of the tests, symptoms, and other notes. "I can't say really. You seem fit as a fiddle. I wonder if this truly is a virus. It's been about two weeks since you last saw me yes?" The doctor asked, to which Francis nodded. "And the symptoms haven't lessoned in the slightest?"_

 _"Non. If anything, they have only gotten worse Doctor," Francis explained. "I am getting sick several times throughout the day and I am simply always so tired now. It had not been this bad the last time I came. Now I am always having such bad cramps, and I am having heartburn as well," Francis complained as he rubbed his chest a bit. "Please, there must be something that can be done. This is becoming so miserable."_

 _"Oh now, don't be dramatic Francis," the doctor chuckled. He worked with Francis every now and again, and he knew that he had a flare for the dramatic at times. "It may just be a touch of Acid Reflux. You've not had an issue with it before right? So perhaps this is what it is." The Doctor closed the chart and chuckled. "Honestly, if you were a lady, I may have suggested pregnancy. But you're such a nancy, that you may as well be right?" The Doctor laughed, and Francis did as well. Pregnancy? How silly! There was no way he could be pregnant! It simply wasn't possible. Right?_

 _His laughter slowly began to die down as the doctor consulted a nurse who was coming by. Pregnant, honestly. He only had sex with women. He did make love to men before, a few times actually. But the last time had been such a good while ago right? And even then, he was very careful to make sure they pulled out before the end. Then something came to mind. Well...what about that one time. That young man, his name was Arthur right? What happened then? Looking back to that day, didn't Arthur...come inside of him? A few times too if he remembered correctly. It was such a blur that night. It didn't help that Francis himself had had a few drinks at the pub as well before he saw Arthur. Hmm.. How long ago did that happen? About two months ago, give or take. So..._

 _"You know," Francis managed to laugh. "Does it really seem like it could have been pregnancy?" He asked him. He tried to mask his nervousness. No way it was pregnancy right?_

 _"I'd say so," the Doctor nodded, rather amused. I mean, all of your tummy problems look a lot like morning sickness, which is very common in the first few trimesters. The fatigue and heartburn are symptoms as well. Why, if I didn't know any better I would have said you were maybe two or three months pregnant," he chuckled, not paying too much attention to Francis now as he handed the chart back to the nurse. Francis's face had gone a funny shade of green as he stared at the floor. Could it really be possible? Those all sounded like pregnancy symptoms right? Two months ago was when he and Arthur had sex. And well, there was a chance for Francis to bare a child. With his body having been formed in such a way, there wasn't anything saying that he couldn't have a baby. Oh God. He placed a hand on his stomach, feeling for a bump or any sort of roundness. He was going to have a baby._

 _"Oi Francis. You've gone a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"_

 _"I...I think I'm going to be sick."_

"After that, I told the doctor of my abnormality and asked him to check for pregnancy. He didn't believe me at first, but he let up after I persisted. And that was how we found out about the baby. He took it a lot worse then I did." He sighed before continuing. "Rumor went around the hospital rather quickly, and eventually reached the ears of my boss. So one day, I came into work, and he informed me that my serviced were no longer needed. He fired me on the spot. I suppose he thought it was bad for business to have someone like me working on patients. I was able to get by on my savings for a bit. But I knew it was not going to be enough. So, I decided to try and rid myself of the problem." He looked a little nervous, but he went on. "I went to another clinic, and tried to abort the baby." I got a funny feeling in my chest when he told me that. I didn't know how I felt about that. I knew where he was coming from of course. But...it felt odd to think about him doing such a thing. "But apparently, word had reached there as well. No one wanted to go inside of me in such a way. I was turned down immediately and had to come back. I was lucky that the public was kept in the dark for the most part, other then the doctors. After about a month, I ran out of savings."

"Didn't you try to get yourself a job of some sort?" I asked him.

"I did. But I was so sick at the time that I couldn't keep a job for too long. So I ended up having a break until the beginning of the fourth month when I was finally feeling better. But by that time, the publicity had gotten worse. I could not find anyone who would hire me. So I eventually had to sell my home. I couldn't afford a good home to stay in however. My house didn't sell as well as I thought it would. So I ended up here. This has been my home for the past month." He ran his fingers through his hair, which was thinner then I had remembered. "The baby is due in July. So I need to figure out what I am going to do before then. I know there must be an orphanage somewhere here."

"You do not plan to raise it?" I asked him. Which was a silly question now that I think about it.

"Of course not," Francis sighed. "As much as I would love to raise a baby of my own, there is no way I would be able to gather enough income in four months in order to do such a thing. Babies cost a lot of money Arthur. I would never be able to raise him or her correctly, even if I tried. Once it is born, I am giving it up. Then, I am going to start over. I will save enough money, and then go home."

"Home? Where is home?"

"In France. I have no family waiting for me at the moment. But I am sure there is a better chance for me there then there is here." I said nothing, only watching as he took a few more bites of some fruit.

"Francis, this may seem like an odd question. But, may I see your tummy?" I asked him. I didn't really know what had come over me to ask such a thing. But I had not had the chance to see a pregnant tummy so close before. And I might not have the chance again. He looked a little tense. "I won't touch! I just...I want to see it. May I?" With a bit of hesitance, he nodded and pushed his chair back from the table. I got up from my own chair and came closer. I knelt down in front of him in order to have a look. His nightgown stretched over tightly, and it was rather smooth. I was tempted to just have a little feel. t was so odd to think that there was a life growing inside of there. A life that was made by me. "Has it begun to kick yet?" I asked him.

"Yes. Since about two weeks ago," he told me. Wow. So it was truly alive was it? "If you would like, you may touch it," he offered, which surprised me a little. "But don't expect me to let you touch my bare stomach though. Just through the gown," he told me. I nodded quickly, and very gently, placed my hand atop his tummy. Very slowly, I ran my hand up and down the rounded bump. Marvelous it was. So big and smooth. I almost wanted to press my cheek against it and have a listen. There likely wouldn't be anything to hear of course. But still, it was only a thought. The baby seemed to have been roused by my rubbing. Because I suddenly felt something against my hand. It was very brief it was. And it was so light that I almost missed it. But it was there. A little brush against my hand that sent a little chill up my spine. I looked at Francis.

"Can you feel that?" I asked him.

" _Oui_. It feels a bit like a butterfly in there," he answered. and then he smiled. It was rather surprising to see. It was a very small smile, but it was there. Ever since that night, I had not seen him smile. And now it was my turn to feel butterflies. I hated that I felt this way. Why did I feel like this? Yes, I was attracted to him. Just a bit. But why? He did not like me, not in the slightest. And for good reason. But no matter how much time passed, I could not forget those kind violet eyes that seemed to sparkle when he first talked to me. I could not forget how he had gone to help me to his home. I couldn't forget how I felt about him then. I still felt that way about him now I supposed. But was this love for certain? I couldn't say. What I did know though, was that I wanted to do something. For him, and for the baby.

"Come and stay with me!" I suddenly said, making him jump a little. He seemed a bit confused, so I stepped in again. "These living conditions. It is no place for a young man such as yourself. Especially one in your condition. I can only imagine just how chilled it must become now that it is winter. Please, why don't you come to stay in my home? You will fair so much better there, I'm sure of it." He didn't say anything to me. Instead, he used his feet to push his hair back and away from myself.

"Why would I do that?" He asked me. His smile was gone, and his face was one of uncertainty. He was thinking about my offer, but it was in his better nature then to take it I suppose. "I still don't trust you. Not at all. The last thing I want to do is to come and stay with you. I am doing fine all by myself. I do not need your help."

"That's a load of rubbish and you know it," I scolded him softly, coming closer. "I know I lost your trust ages ago. And I probably won't be getting it back for some time. But you do need some support right now. And by the looks of it, I'm the only one who can provide it at the moment. Please, it will do my heart good to know that you and the baby are safe and well." He was contemplating it again, I could see it. his eyes gazed over his little home, looking over it. He turned back to me now, his expression softened.

"Then, I will come. Please don't give me reason to leave however. Because I will if I must," he warned me. He sighed and scooted his chair closer again. "Please take good care of me then. I mean..." he placed his hand on his stomach. "Us. Please take good care of us."

"Of course I will. You just leave everything to me."


End file.
